Hunters
by ardavenport
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wam pursue shadowy killers on a world fearful of both them and the Jedi.
1. Chapter 1

**Hunters**

by ardavenport

Qui-Gon Jinn walked down the pedestrian way, his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi just behind him. The people around them, anticipating their passing, managed to find other places to look, reasons to step aside without glancing their way, other directions to go in. A few unwary droids and non-Tavelmi crossed their path, but most seemed to have been warned of their presence.

Qui-Gon stopped at a large, public fountain at an intersection. He looked up at the gloomy patch of gray sky above amidst the tall, urban canyons around them; cars and transports flitted by overhead. Tavelmi shuffled past, making a wide empty space around the two humans. Their thoughts flitted by, whispers in the slight breeze, everyday thoughts quickly smothered in dread as soon as they realized what was among them.

Doors slammed and windows by the street closed around the fountain, a little island of running water and green, growing plants. The miniature, flowering garden freshened the crowded air of the city. The smells of soil and water mixed with the staleness of many bodies and the fried street fare at a vendor's cart at one side of the intersection.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reaching far out with the Force. He sensed the nervousness, the anticipation of fear around him. High above them, there were traces, like deadly memories on the empty rooftops. There were flickers of interest, but it was intangible, with no direction, the same as the day before.

A small, incautious Tavelmi child stood up on the flat, stone edge of the fountain and stared at the pair of robed Jedi, disturbing Qui-Gon's concentration. Undeveloped and something between male and female, its slender body stood erect on two thin, clawed feet. It wore a cheery, bright yellow jumpsuit with fuchsia decoration at the borders. Its delicate, vestigial wings quivered behind it, visible over a narrow, angular head. Qui-Gon mercilessly stared back, his piercing blue eyes resentful. He openly imagined what could happen if this child got between the Jedi and their objective.

The child froze in place, suddenly terrified. As young as it was, it was as telepathic as the adults and Qui-Gon did not spare it any of his thoughts. He did not relent until an older relative rushed up, snatched the child away and disappeared into the widening edge of the crowd.

He felt his apprentice's uncertainty next to him and Qui-Gon turned his withering stare down on the younger man. Obediently, Obi-Wan cleared his discordant thoughts with an inhaled breath, squashing any empathy for the people around them. Qui-Gon had made it quite clear to his Padawan that nothing less than his complete focus on this mission would be tolerated. No one should feel safe around them. Because they weren't.

Qui-Gon led them out of the intersection, toward another passageway between the buildings. The people darted away before them. Their thoughts still lingered all around, unable to get away fast enough.

They passed the food cart and Obi-Wan reached out and took a wrapped bun without asking. The vendor ducked her head, one wing coming up, conveniently blocking her view of the taking as she suddenly fulfilled a need to count her supplies. Obi-Wan munched the filled bun silently. He did not offer any to his Master. If Qui-Gon wanted to eat, he would. They carried survival supplies on their belts, but they were only to be used if needed, if the hunt took them from any other sustenance. Obi-Wan noted the succulent, flavored filling and crispy crust with dispassion and kept his thoughts on the sky and the roofs. He saw nothing, but he sensed a flicker of dark thoughts above, but it had no substance, no place.

They kept moving. When Obi-Wan finished his bun he dropped the crumpled green paper on the black pavement. The rest of the foot traffic flowed around them, heads ducked, wings up, protectively. Voices died around them, but the volume of fear increased. When the way became too narrow, people simply disappeared into doorways or turned around and fled ahead of them until they could escape. The Tavelmi only sensed and communicated thoughts over very short distances, but no amount of distance seemed short enough around the Jedi.

The two Jedi entered a small, secluded courtyard, too small for any vendor stalls. The center of it was dominated by a large tree, its dark foliage trimmed and shaped into a dense, protective umbrella of dark green. A low wall of bushes surrounded it. Thick vines covered the walls of the buildings; shaped bushes framed every door. It looked like a private garden, and it was empty.

They felt a warning in the Force...

Alarmed, both Jedi looked about. Crowds milled behind them, beyond the narrow street they'd just come from. It was the only entrance to this place.

Qui-Gon first saw it, a balcony door carelessly left open. He ran and Force-leaped up to it, Obi-Wan right behind him. Their lightsabers snapped on as they landed. Qui-Gon reached the door just as Obi-Wan landed on the narrow metal railing.

Death, the desire for death, rushed out, straight into Qui-Gon glowing green blade. Obi-Wan had a fleeting glimpse of gray and spreading wings before its weird death-wail rose above the loud hum and crackle of the lightsaber cutting it in half. The fading, many-voiced screams of it eerily lingered their minds.

Obi-Wan shuddered and hopped down, staying clear of the charred remains. The creature had been so insubstantial that the lightsaber had destroyed most of its body, but its fragile gray wings lay partially spread out to either side. Qui-Gon only glanced down at it for a moment before going inside.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice commanded. Obi-Wan hastily complied, jumping over the body to enter the room. They were not be to be separated during this mission for any reason, not even out of sight from each other.

There were three bodies inside amidst overturned stools, tables and scattered pillows. Qui-Gon bent over one of them and it moved, moaned in a high tone, a weak sound, but the air in the room seemed to be thick with anguish and shock. Qui-Gon withdrew, stepping back, knowing that his nearness would cause more pain than he could give assistance for. He took out his comlink and notified the city Mayor of the injury and deaths. More warnings would be sent out about open windows, open doors. This apartment was only three floors above the ground, not normally high enough to be a likely target.

The Okaju had to be getting hungry. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, clearing his mind of everything but what he sensed through the Force in the area above them. They were there, scattered on different roofs. Qui-Gon saw them as hazy shapes, like afterimages on the insides of his eyelids. But even with a fresh kill nearby, they stayed away, out of reach of the Jedi that hunted them.

The two Jedi left the room, but stayed on the balcony until a police speeder had parked below them. As soon as the police and droids had gone inside they leapt down to the street below and left. An audience of half hidden faces peeking through windows followed them outside the courtyard. Qui-Gon strode out, immune to the stares, but Obi-Wan cringed under the attention from a hidden populace until his Master's disapproving glare prompted him to clear his mind of any betraying thoughts.

The crowd that had stopped and gathered at the end of the street shrank back, opening a wide path for them.

The Jedi were not welcome on this world, only accepted as necessary. There was no hostility, but they were the Okaju hunters of last resort, called only when their own had been killed. Worse than killed, her mind, and those of the other victims, had been stripped, consumed and ravished to feed the insatiable hunger of the monsters that the Jedi had been called in to hunt down.

-- Hunters - part 1


	2. Chapter 2

-- **Hunters** - part 2

They traveled throughout the busiest parts of the city for the rest of the day, the populace turning away whenever they came. They went from plaza to courtyard, past traffic intersections, under bridges, over skyways. When they went to a public fresher on the street, they waited first for the other patrons to leave it before taking their turn, their presence warning any others away.

That evening, they waited at the outer boundaries of an outdoor café. All the diners moved to tables that were furthest away from them. A nervous Tavelmi server brought out a tray of food and drink containers, but she never looked at them as she put it down on a corner table and left, as if she were making an offering to appease evil spirits.

They took what they needed and left, eating as they continued to cris-cross their way throughout the city. The crowds and overhead traffic thinned out as the evening grew later. Above them, the skies felt restless; they were being followed by hungry minds. It permeated the city, as if the buildings themselves craved their deaths.

On a narrow, nearly empty street, they heard a noise above them, sensed a sudden heat of desperation breaking into uncontrollable bloodlust.

They both ignited their lightsabers at once.

Obi-Wan's bright, blue blade shot straight upward, guided by the Force. He felt the death howl, like chorus of agony, in his mind. Dry, brittle body parts tumbled down on him. Someone screamed nearby and the few remaining pedestrians fled.

Still acting on his Force instincts, Obi-Wan froze in place, his lightsaber above his head. Next to him Qui-Gon's lightsaber hummed and glowed bright green against the darkness that the white and yellow streetlights could not dispel. On the ground, Obi-Wan saw another twisted gray body, its wings cleaved in half. Shocked, he stared down at it. He hadn't even realized that Qui-Gon had been attacked as well.

The moment stretched on. The sense of imminent danger from above diminished, but remained, restrained again. Qui-Gon deactivated his saber. It snapped off, the blade vanishing. Obi-Wan did the same and lowered his arms. Qui-Gon looked very unhappy about the aborted confrontation. He gripped his lightsaber hilt and looked up at the dark edges of the roofs as if he could dare the other to come down and end the hunt.

Obi-Wan clipped his saber to his belt and stepped away from the Okaju remains around him. He brushed at the dried and charred bits still caught in the folds of his robe. Qui-Gon's hands grasped his shoulders, pulling his robe down off of him. Obi-Wan stood by mutely as the older man thoroughly shook the robe out for him and then handed it back. Obi-Wan saw a hint of sympathy and sadness in his Master's dark blue eyes, nearly black in the shadows.

Then Qui-Gon reached out and brushed gray bits out of dust out of Obi-Wan's hair. But when he cringed Qui-Gon gave him a stern look; the moment of sympathy was gone.

After another call to the Mayor, they moved on. The city workers would remove the remains and the ghastly mental echo of the fight would keep the curious away until they arrived.

They came to a park, a pocket of dark green, purple and yellow in among the buildings. The trees and hedges muted the pervasive rumble of the city sounds around it. No overhead traffic disturbed it; the Tavelmi forbade air speeder traffic over gardens and parks. They circled, noting that all of the doors and windows of the buildings were secure and the area was well lit. Qui-Gon picked a curved bench in the open, away from the well-tended trees and flowering bushes.

"We will stay here," he announced, his voice grave.

Obi-Wan took the first watch. He sat straight, cross-legged on the bench, his lightsaber hilt in his hands. He 'saw' the park around him through the Force, felt it, the buildings, the streets, Qui-Gon lying on the bench next to him. People huddled inside the buildings that surrounded them, except at the top floors, which had been cleared all over the city, so they were less vulnerable to the Okaju. Occasional late night pedestrians would pause and stare at them, a young, adult human sitting next to an older, bearded one sleeping on a public bench. Then they would hurry away as soon as the Jedi were recognized.

Obi-Wan paid little attention to them, keeping his mind on his surroundings and the hint of malevolence just outside of perception, watching from above. Their quarry could grasp his intentions, sense them, taste them, so Obi-Wan minded his thoughts, not allowing them to stray beyond their mission and his Master's instructions. Qui-Gon had told him that it was important that the Okaju know that the Jedi wanted them. The Okaju would not be able to resist following. They would pass up other, vulnerable targets for what they thought was a chance to feed on the Jedi.

This was completely irrational to Obi-Wan, but he could see that it was true. The air seemed to thicken with their need as the night wore on. Waves of telepathically generated fear assaulted him from all sides. The spectral terror flowed through him and away in the Force, a foul wind in the night air. Obi-Wan wondered at how easy it was for him to deflect, but he sensed that anyone sleeping in the buildings around them would be having terrible nightmares, if they could sleep at all.

What surprised Obi-Wan the most was that the failure of the Okaju's mental attack seemed to only make them more determined. Gradually, Obi-Wan realized that the Okaju knew that even if they got past their lightsabers, even touching the Jedi would be death to them. That simultaneously kept them away and fed their hunger. They stayed hidden in the dark, only betrayed by a barely heard wing flap and Obi-Wan's sense of them through the Force.

They no longer wanted any other prey. The life energies drained from any being other than the Jedi would not satisfy them now. The Okaju hung suspended between desire and death, like drug addicts that knew that what they desired most was killing them.

Obi-Wan accepted the twisted logic he sensed in the night around him without reacting to it. He minded his thoughts, as Qui-Gon had instructed. He would probe how he felt when the mission was over.

Next to him, Qui-Gon didn't quite sleep. His body relaxed, his eyes were closed, but his mind remained half aware, with no room for true dreams, and ready to immediately respond to anything. This kind of rest was meant to only hold off the effects of sleeplessness. All Jedi trained their bodies for it, to use when a mission required it. If necessary they could go without real sleep for many days.

Halfway through the night, Obi-Wan nudged his Master. He came awake instantly and sat up, a dark silhouette outlined by the streetlights around the park. Obi-Wan silently lay down on his half of the bench; he cleared his mind and soon fell into the trance of a half-sleep.

Qui-Gon sat alone in his wakefulness. Their quarry still lingered in the night. That part of their mission was working. The Jedi Master sensed them, high above. Their hunger drew them. The Jedi had dragged their invisible snare though the city and the Okaju now followed it, but they held back, unwilling to be caught, but unable to tear themselves away from the fabulous prize that the Jedi presented to them.

He sat cross-legged, arms resting on his knees, his lightsaber ready between them. He imagined a faint howling in the wind, his own mental manifestation of what he sensed from the Okaju through the Force. With the crowds gone and his Padawan quiescent next to him, Qui-Gon began to sense individuals. There were many of them; he didn't know how many, but more than they had expected. Qui-Gon had been certain of that earlier in the day, but there were no other Jedi who could reach them for many days.

Qui-Gon sensed a leader among them, a strong one that kept the others back. Okaju, successful ones, always had a leader to control the murderous instincts of the brood, so that they could remain hidden and feeding among the population, sometimes for many years. The leader poured terror down on him. Instinctive, base fear condensed in the cool, pre-dawn air as the others joined in.

Qui-Gon mildly answered it with indifference and the certainty that the Force was a vast ocean of life that drove their hunger into madness, but they dared not drink from it. Somewhere above, the leader flinched; it now knew that Qui-Gon had hunted their kind before. There were no more concerted attacks on his mind, though the bloodlust remained, flitting between rooftops.

All around him, the buildings were sealed, the inhabitants shut in. The earlier deaths had improved their vigilance. Qui-Gon watched a lumbering, early morning street cleaner droid as it slowly ground past them.

The city could not be cleared effectively. Even the most organized evacuation for such a densely populated area would provide cover for their quarry to escape, with far more risk of death and worse. If they were cornered, the Okaju could easily start a panic that would work in their favor.

Just before dawn, as a few Tavelmi and droids appeared on the streets Qui-Gon nudged his Padawan awake. Obi-Wan rose from his nap and the Jedi moved on, wandering the streets again, leaving tremors of fear behind in their wake. As morning turned to noon and then afternoon and then later, both Jedi sensed the increasing tension from above. They were attacked two more times, destroying three more Okaju. No Tavelmi were threatened, or even nearby when the Okaju came down for them. The previous day's deaths had inspired them. The Tavelmi and the various other species of the city had gotten much better at avoiding the Jedi, though their eyes followed them from a distance wherever they went.

- end - part 2 -


	3. Chapter 3

**Hunters** - part 3

In the late afternoon, after many long, winding streets, they came to another intersection. This time Qui-Gon paused at the entrance. Obi-Wan stopped by his side, sensing the dark disturbance in the Force above them. They could see the Okaju above, gathering on the edges of roofs and ledges of building. They were no longer hiding.

Qui-Gon's thoughts radiated their deadly purpose before he rushed into the open space. Tavelmi silently scattered around them, others further away hooted and called to others too far away or insensitive to their thought-touch. The Jedi leaped upon the ivy-covered sculpture in the center of the intersection from which all others frantically fled. Padawan and Master used the Force to nearly run up the jumble of rock and metal shapes until they were as high up as the could get, four stories above the ground, but still well below the uneven, slanting roofs that encircled them.

Qui-Gon activated his fiery green lightsaber and held it at the ready; Obi-Wan's blue joined it a fraction of a second later. The wind seemed to pick up. The sounds of frantic footsteps died away and no traffic passed overhead. The intersection had emptied.

Wings flitted above. Silhouettes jumped from roof to roof, getting lower, closer to them. Obi-Wan felt the Force strong around himself and his Master, cutting through the oppressive fear that lingered around the Okaju. Rarely did he ever feel Qui-Gon Jinn so oppressively use his power. A figure dove toward them from the pale, gray sky above. It stopped.

The Okaju hovered slightly above them and out of reach. The delicate features of the Tavelmi twisted into this withered and wiry body, now light enough for flight. The healthy browns of skin and hair had mutated into a pale greenish-gray of a neutered quasi-death. It wore nothing, no cloth, no decoration that would weigh it down.

Qui-Gon held his lightsaber up at his side and held his free hand out to it. The Okaju's sickly green eyes stared back with hatred and disdain, but Obi-Wan sensed how the being craved their lifeblood. Its lust to consume, to create death, pressed in on him.

It held back, obviously knowing that it would be death for an Okaju to even touch a Jedi.

This one had to be the brood leader. Its thoughts broadcasted its pride and hatred out far beyond the Tavelmi's usual limited, telepathic range. The haze of fear that the Jedi had been feeling clinging to the city had solidified into rage around this creature.

It was clearly old, Qui-Gon noted. Its longevity and cunning ruled its instincts to suck the life from the living. It could have existed for centuries. It very likely had secretly haunted this city decades ago when Qui-Gon and a team of two other Jedi Knights had dispatched a brood of seven in another city on another continent on this same world.

"We will accept imprisonment," it rasped at them. Above them, Qui-Gon sensed hunger and outrage and he knew that this was not a unanimous decision of the brood. But this one was the strongest and spoke for them anyway. He pulled his hand back and swung his lightsaber downward.

"Land. All of you," he commanded. The Okaju hissed. Then a terrible scream came from its lipless mouth to its companions and Qui-Gon wondered that the sound alone didn't shake this fragile creature apart. Many wings fluttered above, but Qui-Gon didn't look. He kept his eyes on the leader who returned his stare with loathing. Others of its kind swirled around them, lower and lower like leaves falling from a deadened tree. When the sounds of wings had faded into nervous flutterings, Qui-Gon's gaze flicked down and back to the leader.

"Have them all stand together." The leader hissed again. Qui-Gon sensed the strength of this being's will, its thoughts wordlessly forcing the others to obey. The Jedi could not sense any words in the commands, but the intent was clear. The Okaju below formed a group. Qui-Gon waited.

"They are not all together," Qui-Gon said coldly.

The leader screamed again and dove. It flushed out another, larger one of its kind from a cavity in the sculpture below them. Apparently strong willed itself, the rebel hissed back, but still allowed itself to be herded into the group below. Qui-Gon stared down at the assemblage. Many eyes fixed on him. There were indeed, far more of them than they expected.

He leapt up and out and down. The Force slowed his decent, the air billowing out his robe behind him. He kept his gaze steady on the gathered Okaju as he crouched and stood, his lightsaber still activated. He heard Obi-Wan's boots land on the pavement just behind him. The two lightsabers hummed ominously.

There were more than two dozen Okaju of varying sizes, though not even the tips of their wings came up to Qui-Gon's shoulders. Many of them appeared to be younger, emaciated and feral, less in control of their instincts. Only the leader's will held them in check.

The situation was much worse than they had been told when they had first arrived and been given all the plans and preparations of the native Okaju hunter who had preceded them. Her name had been Miyanem, and her brother, Blazumajin, still mourning his loss, had briefed them. Five, we think he had told them; there couldn't have been more.

Now they could see that she had hardly had a chance against so many Okaju, even though she had been the best hunter on Tavelm. When she had been killed, her body twisted and drained of all life, the government had contacted the Republic, to beg the Jedi to come to this small, isolated world.

After days of walking the city, Qui-Gon had already seen that the situation was worse than they'd been told, but now he could see that it was more dire than even he had estimated.

A few lights had come on automatically in the empty area that they gathered in; the day waned. All other living things had fled as far and as fast as they could.

With his free hand, Qui-Gon reached back to his larger belt pouch and pulled out a cord with a series of binding rings on it. Obi-Wan took out the same device as well. They didn't have nearly enough rings for so many, but some of them were so small, their arms so tiny that Qui-Gon planned to confine pairs of them together on the same binder rings. Silently Qui-Gon held out his hand and Obi-Wan gave him his binders. Stringing them together would make flying away or attacking much more difficult.

Obi-Wan took out his comlink and signaled for the droid transport to pick them up. The pit was prepared outside the city. The Okaju could be maintained on animals and questioned and studied in relative safety there. There was no hope for a cure to the illness that turned them into such creatures, but the empathy of the Tavelmi drove them to look for some way of dealing with the Okaju besides killing them.

Even more importantly to the Tavelmi, the Okaju retained the last memories, the last essence of life of everyone they had murdered and fed upon. Killing the Okaju effectively killed their victims again, destroying their memories forever.

Qui-Gon signaled to the leader and held up the first binder.

"Nooo!" The large rebel howled, leaping forward. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wans' lightsabers sent it back, its wings stretching out threateningly.

"We are many; they are few! We must not!" it berated its leader, who turned swiftly and struck it down. The leader's gnarled claws scored deep marks in the rebel's tough skin, but there was no blood.

"This is your doing! I should never have made you to make these. There cannot be so many," the leader waved its skinny arm at the gathering. "You have brought hunters down on us, so we cannot even hide!" Its hungry eyes returned their captors. "The ones that cannot be defeated."

"Would you live in a hole, denied the sky, while vermin, too fearful to even bear our death cries throw lesser vermin to us out of pity until we waste away?" the larger one spat back as it slowly climbed to its feet. Its pale gray eyes squinted at the Jedi. "We killed the hunters. We will kill these," it promised, its hate filling the air. Qui-Gon saw most of the others lean toward the rebel. Their bloodlust rose. They wanted to follow the rebel.

"Fool!" the leader hissed, forcing the other one back. "You know nothing." He looked at the Jedi and then back at his challenger. "Kill them? You couldn't even take the small one," he said, waving toward Obi-Wan. Rage filled the rebel Okaju.

Qui-Gon sensed the impending attack through the Force. He swung his lightsaber, going for a quick kill, but the rebel dove to the side. It seized the leader's head, its clawed hands plunging into the eyes and deep into the brain. The leader convulsed and the rebel rolled, swinging the other's body and wings into Qui-Gon's lightsaber and pushing itself away. The leader's death scream came like a shock wave with many voices, drowning and desperate, louder than any of the others they'd killed.

The others took flight all at once.

-- Hunters - part 3


	4. Chapter 4

**Hunters** - part 4

Qui-Gon's next swing went clean through a frenzied attacker, but its forward momentum still carried the two halves into him while six more came right behind. More than twice as many descended on Obi-Wan, his blue lightsaber spinning in defensive circles, cutting down three at once.

New death screams crashed into the echoes of the first in Qui-Gon's head. He spun, twirling his lightsaber, scorching wings and limbs, severing a few heads with deadly accuracy. The deaths of the death-givers filled his mind with the pressure of every life they'd drained, now released all at once. Qui-Gon breathed it all in and let it go through the Force just as he had the Okaju's projected fear. He swung his lightsaber in a wide arc, driving the survivors back.

Every Tavelmi in the area would feel the fight, the mental screams, but it was still better to kill them cleanly with a lightsaber rather than the other way.

Too late, Qui-Gon felt a claw around his boot, trying to dig through to his ankle. A needle of pain pierced his temples and he suddenly saw the two Okaju before him through a hazy tunnel of light. Completely maddened now they came at him together, claws out, desperate to reach him. He cut them down, scattering their body parts.

Something snagged his belt from behind him. Agony stabbed his temple. His stomach tightened and he stumbled as he turned. A dizzy coolness went through him, as if he were lightheaded with blood loss. He drew the Force to him, his focus overriding the pain, the mental cacophony.

His green blade blazed brighter than the tunnel he saw through as he sliced through two more Okaju. Another one barely evaded him, but he got it on the back swing.

Another pain drilled into his head. The world around him had lost all sense of reality; he only saw through pain-induced phantoms and through the Force. It felt like a tangible light, with ferocious, dark predators around him. He suddenly realized that an Okaju was clinging to his belt, close but not quite touching him. It was ecstatic, caught in an unimaginable flow of life. Qui-Gon swung his lightsaber over his head and down, the tip of it touching the creature's head. The Okaju exploded, bits of it flying in all directions.

Qui-Gon saw an Okaju leap over him to fall into agonized death over the outline of his Padawan, who was on his back. Qui-Gon staggered to him and took up a defensive stance over Obi-Wan; the Force felt positively inflamed around them both.

Four more Okaju hopped and swayed out of reach of Qui-Gon's deadly green lightsaber. They knew what would happen, but their craving overwhelmed all sense. Okaju existed on the physical fluids and flesh of the Tavelmi that they had once been. But they were driven even more to consume the very life essence of their prey.

Okaju were sensitive to the Force, but only as far as it led them to the next victim that they might gorge themselves on. A Jedi drew strength from the Force, from all the living things around them, from the whole galaxy. Okaju would latch on to feed, but the Force would rush into them until they quite literally exploded, in a state of total bliss as they were ripped apart, spewing telepathic bedlam in all directions. Every Tavelmi for kilometers around had likely collapsed by now.

Qui-Gon lowered his lightsaber blade to draw them in. He breathed deeply, clearing his thoughts of pain and the thoughts of the dead. Everything else shrank to nothing, save the motions of the remaining four surrounding him. They bobbed and ducked in and out of striking range, each one desperate for the prize, but even more eager for its neighbor to take the killing blow.

When one behind him leapt up to attack, Qui-Gon's lightsaber was there to meet it. His saber hummed loudly over the death screams in his mind as he killed the other three in a single sweeping arc around him. The remains fell to the ground, one outstretched arm falling on the toe of his boot.

Only the lightsaber and the breathing of the living remained.

Obi-Wan stared up at his mentor. His vision slowly cleared of bright pain-flashes, leaving only the green blade above him and its afterglow. He'd known what could happen. Qui-Gon had told him in graphic detail before they had set foot on the planet, but a description of indescribable pain simply wasn't the same as experiencing it. Long moments passed while Qui-Gon stood alert over him. His Master finally deactivated his lightsaber and looked down, his bearded face expressionless; the gray sky above had gone very dark.

Qui-Gon reached down, his long, brown hair hanging down off his shoulders. Obi-Wan took his hand and his Master helped him up.

Immediately Obi-Wan felt disoriented. His hand felt empty and he looked down to see his lightsaber lying on the black pavement. He didn't remember dropping it, but it had made a large gouge on the ground before deactivating. He reached out and it sprang up into his hand. He reattached it to his belt. Obi-Wan thought it was strange that it came to him so easily; he felt lightheaded and queasy, the Force one huge disturbance around him. Then his head started to hurt, a growing pain behind the eyes. Qui-Gon was still tense, looking about.

Obi-Wan froze. Qui-Gon swiftly turned to him. Obi-Wan pointed.

Above them, at the pinnacle of the sculpture, three Okaju still perched, the large rebel and two other wide-eyed ones that it clutched at the shoulders. Qui-Gon's lightsaber flashed green and he leapt up onto the stone and metal again. But the rebel launched itself into the air, dragging the other two with it. Qui-Gon threw back his arm and flung his lightsaber spinning after them, but their flight was too erratic and the energy blade cleaved only one of them. The rebel and the other one ascended even higher as the lightsaber went off and plummeted to the ground with what remained of their slain companion.

Obi-Wan took deep breaths as his Master leapt back down, his lightsaber flying back to his hand. Obi-Wan started to follow Qui-Gon after the two escapees. They would be especially dangerous now; they would need to feed after the fight. But the motion of running was just too much for him. He hadn't regained his focus and the migraine overwhelmed him. He had to stop and vomit on the pavement.

Qui-Gon looked in the direction of the two fleeing Okaju, then to his Padawan, and back toward the Okaju. Desperate as the situation was, it was a bad idea to be separated. While Obi-Wan heaved up the contents of his stomach, Qui-Gon retrieved the binders, dropped in the melee and then signaled the Mayor about their situation. A hazardous materials team would be dispatched to their location to clean up the remains. The Jedi would pursue the two fugitives. The Mayor already knew about the fight. Distressed Tavelmi had already been calling the city government, at least the ones who were coherent enough to call for help.

Obi-Wan had stopped throwing up, but he was still bent over, gasping and spitting to clear his mouth out.

Qui-Gon took a water capsule from his belt. Obi-Wan took it, bit into it, rinsed his mouth out with the contents and spit it out. Qui-Gon placed his hand on Obi-Wan shoulders and leaned next to him. He didn't say anything, but he stroked his Padawan's neck and the short hair at the base of his skull, willing strength and calmness to him through the Force.

After another moment Obi-Wan's breathing slowed, his control returning. He straightened and nodded his thanks, his blue eyes gray and almost colorless, apologetic for slowing them down. Qui-Gon silently accepted it.

They hurried to a building at the intersection with a door that had a red marker on it. Every intersection in the city had a building with a door with a red marker on it, one of the preparations that they had inherited from the now-dead Tavelmi Okaju hunter. Qui-Gon slid the door aside. There was a speeder bike inside.

The time for luring the Okaju to them had passed. They hadn't known how many Okaju there were, so the Jedi had walked the streets of the city as bait, hoping to lure some of them into revealing the whole group. Okaju could be drawn to a Jedi's affinity with the Force, with life itself, from a great distance. But they had not anticipated that the brood would be so large or well organized. Now most of them were destroyed and they had to finish their mission.

Qui-Gon directed Obi-Wan to sit pillion behind him on the speeder. Obi-Wan firmly grasped the passenger handles while Qui-Gon engaged the motor and kicked in the antigravs. They headed upward and sped away into the growing twilight after the escaped Okaju as soon as they'd cleared the tops of the buildings.

-- Hunters - part 4


	5. Chapter 5

**Hunters** - part 5

There was no traffic below them. The speeder automatically broadcast a signal on an emergency frequency to all others. Vehicles were down and parked below them, no people in sight, all life hidden. Obi-Wan felt the Force guiding his Master. The Okaju were ahead of them. They were hungry. A chill filled them both. They were feeding.

The speeder dove down between the canyons of buildings, yellow illumination winking on for them and going off in their wake. They sped over the narrow pedestrian ways. Everything was deserted, empty. Once the fight had begun, the warning would have spread outward, telepath to telepath. The Tavelmi could only read thoughts clearly for very short distances and only among their own species, but this warning would spread like a fire.

Qui-Gon halted the speeder at a garden intersection. A Bothan and two Tavelmi lay dead, their eyes wide and lifeless, their throats and chests slashed and bloody.

Qui-Gon's head turned toward a fluttering down one side street and he zoomed after it, Obi-Wan hanging on behind him. The Okaju couldn't possibly outrun a speeder, but they knew the city well, and where to hide where an anti-grav wouldn't fit.

Miyanem, the dead Okaju hunter who had pursued this brood before them, had known the city as well.

She had planned to capture the Okaju, arranged the droid transports, the roof evacuations, the pre-positioned speeders, before she'd been taken. And eaten. The Jedi now used her preparations for their own ruthless purpose as they raced above the empty streets.

The Tavelmi always preferred to capture Okaju. The Okaju could mask their kills in the midst of a crowded city of telepaths, but they couldn't hide their own deaths. They howled their demise out painfully to the minds around them, one last attack. It wasn't dangerous to most Tavelmi, except to the very young and old and infirm, but their death screams magnified a hundred-fold when their life energies immolated themselves on the Jedi. Brain ruptures, heart attacks, trauma, death would have broken out in the neighborhood around their confrontation with the brood.

Qui-Gon made a quick turn and stopped, hovering between rooftops. He sensed Obi-Wan's alertness and he caught a glimpse of wings, disappearing behind a corner.

"They've separated," Qui-Gon noted.

He closed his eyes and sensed the stronger one, the rebel, ahead. The speeder bike accelerated forward in pursuit. The lesser one would likely follow its leader on its own.

Even with the speeder, the Okaju eluded them. Qui-Gon would rush after it as it slipped into dark crevices between buildings, out of reach. With many exits at the other faces of connected buildings Qui-Gon would have to ascend high to see where it came out, increasingly difficult in the growing twilight. When the Okaju did come shooting out, it would have enough time to get to another nearby crevice and a new set of buildings before Qui-Gon could dive to catch it.

The Okaju took a zigzag path through the city rooftops, but Qui-Gon saw that it was leading him somewhere.

Qui-Gon spotted the Okaju speeding from its latest hiding place to a darkened building top, flat with many blocky surfaces. There were places to hide, but none that Qui-Gon couldn't get to.

Qui-Gon dove, a swift path toward his quarry, crouched amidst the dark shapes on the roof.

Obi-Wan's lightsaber flared blue and deflected the sudden blaster fire from a nearby roof. Qui-Gon veered to the side, circling low, down into the canyons between the buildings where the blaster couldn't reach. When he shot upward again behind the sniper's position he saw the other Okaju behind a mounted blaster rifle.

They saw each other at the same time and the Okaju swivelled the gun around to fire again, but Qui-Gon had his lightsaber out. Its green energy flashed, deflecting the blaster bolts as he accelerated with his other hand and guided the speeder bike with his knees.

Too late, the Okaju realized that its shots were not connecting to the onrushing enemy. Its pale face horrified, it dove for cover. Obi-Wan's lightsaber beheaded it on a down swing that also sliced through the blaster as their velocity took them past it. The creature's death scream quickly faded behind them.

Qui-Gon came to a rapid stop, facing the Okaju rebel across the empty space between the two buildings. For the first time it actually showed surprise. They could both just see its pale, open-mouthed stare in the shadows. Then the hate returned to fire its expression. The creature's malice, its desire for their deaths almost tangible. Qui-Gon accelerated again, zooming over to the other roof, flying and circling above its uneven surfaces. The Okaju went to one edge to launch itself, but Qui-Gon cut it off. It backed up and tried again with the same result.

The Okaju rebel backed up to the wall of a hut jutting up out of the center of the roof. Its back covered, it faced the Jedi as Qui-Gon landed and they both dismounted and advanced.

Silently, Qui-Gon reached back to his pouch and took out the binder cable. He held it up. One last offer. The Okaju hissed.

"I will NEVER be taken by vermin like you. I CHOSE my destiny."

It was not unheard of, for a Tavelmi, lured by the promise of near immortality, of flight and freedom from all the bindings of living, to ask an Okaju to "make" him.

"I see you provided for yourself in advance." Qui-Gon gestured back to the blaster that Obi-Wan had destroyed. They could see another mounted gun on this roof as well. It hissed back at him, its eyes gleaming green from the glow from Qui-Gon's lightsaber. It clearly knew what choices it now faced. Fly and be struck down? Or fight and die?

Okaju lived on the wind. Existing completely outside of society, they had no need for its comforts and mechanisms; they were completely free. Capture was no longer an option for this one, if it ever had been. Qui-Gon tossed away the binders.

They took a few steps forward, closing in. Its eyes shifted from one to the other of them in momentary indecision about which Jedi to attack. But its hateful gaze finally rested on the older Jedi.

Qui-Gon struck, leaping forward with the Force, striking down in a wide arc. The Okaju ducked, dodging just under the sweep of the lightsaber, diving down and up at Obi-Wan.

It met the full length of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. The two halves of its body fell to the ground. A scream passed through their minds as the Okaju went from the freedom of its half-life to nothingness.

Qui-Gon lowered his saber and stepped over to his Padawan. This death had not been as intense as the brood leader's had been; it had many fewer voices, but it had been angrier.

They looked down at the charred and crumbling pieces. The green light went out. Then Obi-Wan's blue lightsaber went out as well. There was only shadow now. It was night. The lights from the city bathed them in a colorless gloom. A breeze picked up, catching the edges of their robes and the ends of Qui-Gon's hair. For the first time, the city no longer whispered fear at them.

"Are they all dead?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "I think so." He opened them. "But we'll have to stay a few days to make sure." He shook his head. Obi-Wan saw his Master let his head fall back; he took a deep breath and let it out. Obi-Wan felt the energy go out of him, the oppressive power of the Force ran away from him like water. Qui-Gon's shoulders dropped and he put his lightsaber back on his belt.

Obi-Wan remained standing while his Master turned away and went to sit down on a stone block near the edge of the roof. He bent forward, head down, arms resting on his knees. Obi-Wan moved closer.

"You should contact the Mayor, tell him where we are, so they can pick up the remains," Qui-Gon said, looking up, out at the city. Obi-Wan clipped his own lightsaber to his belt and took out his comlink. He signaled the Mayor and gave them their position. The Mayor formally thanked them for their service and told them that they'd be arriving soon. Obi-Wan put his comlink away. Qui-Gon hadn't moved.

-- Hunters - part 5


	6. Chapter 6

**Hunters** - part 6

"How do you feel?" Qui-Gon's voice sounded loud over the muted city sounds below them. Not even evacuations and desperate emergency could quiet the machinations of a city.

"Master?"

"How do you feel, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon continued to look out over the tops of the buildings as he spoke. Obi-Wan hesitated. He had no words.

"I don't feel anything. I've been concentrating on the mission," he admitted.

"Ah." Qui-Gon did not look disappointed. He almost smiled. "Possibly because that is what I told you to do." He accepted this, his eyes still looking out at the lights in the darkness.

"Qui-Gon." This time he looked back at his Padawan, his face in shadow.

Obi-Wan's pale face, his tunic and pants were visible in the distant light, his brown robe and hair black in the gloom. "How do you feel?"

"I do not care for this sort of mission, Obi-Wan. For the task of executioner."

Obi-Wan swallowed. "We were successful. We did destroy them." He moved closer to Qui-Gon.

"Yes, we did destroy them. But at some cost, I fear." He turned back to the lights of the city, the darkened rooftops. It was quiet, the only sounds coming from far away. The Tavelmi around them would have felt the demise of the last two Okaju. They would have had no warning.

Obi-Wan sat down next to Qui-Gon.

"I do not think we could have captured them," Obi-Wan stated quietly.

"No. It was a vain hope at best. We couldn't possibly have contained so many." Qui-Gon bowed his head. They sat silently together. Obi-Wan laid his hand on his Master's shoulder and leaned closer to him.

Qui-Gon reached up and laid his own hand over Obi-Wan's, still resting on his shoulder. In the distance, they both saw the blinking lights of a transport rise up among the buildings and head in their direction.

The transport approached, growing in the sky. Other vehicles followed the transport, more city workers to collect the remains. Obi-Wan stayed close to his Master. After being so strong, so focused for days, the older man now felt spent and that disturbed Obi-Wan.

The transport hovered very close to their perch on the roof; its door opened. The Jedi easily leaped inside and the door closed behind them, the vehicle rising again into the sky. They were alone in the cabin. The lone Tavelmi pilot glanced fearfully back at them from behind a drawn curtain, but otherwise didn't acknowledge the new passengers. They took the front two seats of the six in the cabin. They sat up straight in seats with uncomfortably short, narrow backs, meant to accommodate wings on either side.

The transport sped over the city lights. They headed back toward the meeting place near the spaceport where they'd been briefed when they'd first arrived. Obi-Wan silently watched the darkened shapes of the taller buildings of the city disappear behind them. He sensed nothing lurking in its shadows other than its own inhabitants. It was just another city now.

No other air traffic or speeders passed near them as they approached their destination. They landed behind the hostel where the Mayor had set up the city command post for the Okaju hunt. The Jedi exited, jumping lightly down to the paved ground. The transport immediately left as soon as they were clear of it. Except a small knot of Tavelmi by the rear entrance, there was no one else in the brightly lit parking area behind the hostel.

Qui-Gon strode up to the people who waited for them, all traces of weariness erased from his face. They both bowed to the Mayor, their arms tucked into the opposite sleeves of their robes, a formal Jedi gesture. The Mayor nodded back and told them that their success had already been reported to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and that they were to report themselves later at their convenience. She gestured them inside. The three city deputies hustled back away from them, their wings rising up nervously, as the Jedi passed through the door. Obi-Wan glanced at them uneasily and they looked away.

The Mayor led them through rear storage rooms, past a sparsely occupied dining room and a data room full of screens and coms and droids. This was the part of the Okaju hunt that the Jedi had seen only a small part of, the communications networks, the monitors that had tracked them on their search, the planners, the response teams for emergency calls.

They approached the command center, but the Mayor turned, leading them away from it. Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan noticed the people inside the plasti-clear walls halt their activities, looking up from monitors and datapads. Their eyes solemnly watched them pass by. Some people looked away in a way reminiscent of how the people had on the city streets.

They went through an office and entered an interior suite. The city deputies who had trailed them stayed outside. Blazumajin waited in the center of an entry room and the Mayor joined him there.

Blazumajin was as tall as Obi-Wan with broad shoulders for a Tavelmi. He wore a shapeless gray suit, as if he were wrapped in shadow, his wings up straight behind him. The room lights were low, the furniture simple but comfortable. A silver, Tavelmi-form protocol droid waiting just inside the door. Blazumajin stepped forward and the Jedi bowed to him. The door slid behind them. The four of them were alone.

"It is ended," Qui-Gon began. "They are all destroyed. We do not sense any survivors."

Blazumajin flinched, his dark brown eyes closing. The Mayor bowed her head, her wings covering her shoulders protectively. Their thoughts sharpened as individual, personal tragedies. The sense of a fearful, distant crowd that had hovered around them for days lingered outside the room among the people staffing the command center.

"I wish..." Blazumajin began. "I wish to see for myself. To know it."

Qui-Gon remained impassive, not welcoming this request.

"That is not wise."

Some telepaths could see everything in a Jedi. Others found them blank and unreadable. But many sensed their connection to the life around them and risked getting lost in it, if they looked too closely. The Tavelmi were of the later type, like the Okaju; the Jedi were bottomless to them. The Tavelmi did not suffer from the insatiable urge to dive into and consume those limitless mental depths that their twisted brethren did, but peering too closely could bring its own terrors.

"I have been trained," Blazumajin spoke solemnly. "By my sister, Miyanem. I would have succeeded her in this task, but the government overruled me." He nodded his brown head, his eyes downcast; the short fur on the top of his head was highlighted blond.

He had told them this when they had first arrived, but he had freely ceded all of his sister's plans and preparations to them without any trace of ego or affront.

Qui-Gon sighed; his expression fell, showing the weariness he felt. His eyes found Obi-Wan's and he nodded, a tiny motion.

"Very well."

Blazumajin lifted his eyes to them and stepped forward. He pressed the palms of his narrow, long-fingered hands together and then raised them up before Qui-Gon, not touching, but Blazumajin's brown eyes stared fiercely up at the tall man before him.

Obi-Wan watched. His Master stood, quietly emotionless, but Blazumajin appeared lost. Blazumajin's thoughts seemed to vanish as he quested for Qui-Gon's. Slowly Blazumajin withdrew with a rising aura of hopelessness and despair. He lowered his hands. Then he stepped to the side and stood before Obi-Wan who quashed his nervousness to ease any possible difficulties for the telepath.

Obi-Wan felt nothing. Tavelmi thoughts were unusually easy to sense through the Force, especially if they were close and focused on him. Without thinking about it, he let the searching thoughts pass through him. It was easy. After walking through the tangible and fearful mind-touches of the thousands of people in the city, the probe of one individual was barely a whisper on his consciousness.

But even the tiniest sound can be loud in a silent room.

Obi-Wan saw fleeting images of Miyanem. She was small and spry, her coloring a lighter brown than her brother's and she always scented her fur with new plants; the cool edges of her wings would nudge him as they exchanged warm memories of their dead parents, and they were both still close to a younger sister, who would have nothing to do with the hunting of Okaju; she had stayed away after Miyanem's death grimly waiting for her brother to come to her when it was all over, when he could bring her...

Nothing.

Obi-Wan sensed Blazumajin's increasing desperation. He floundered, searching for memories that Obi-Wan didn't have. The images of Miyanem were completely new to Obi-Wan; he'd never seen, never felt her before in his life.

Blazumajin suddenly pulled his hands away and stumbled back. The Mayor grasped his arm and they stood together in shared distress. Neither one of them had accepted the final deaths, until now. Grief filled them. Had the Mayor known anyone who had been killed, or made into Okaju? Obi-Wan did not know and he could not ask.

Guilt flowed from Blazumajin as well. He had been trained to capture the fleeting memories of victims and Okaju, hundreds of them if necessary, one last bit of consolation for the survivors. They were all gone now, and he had never been allowed to try to save them.

The Mayor's stricken look found Qui-Gon and he stepped aside, nudging Obi-Wan to do the same. The two Tavelmi hurried out. The door slid shut behind them.

Qui-Gon saw the shocked look on his Padawan's face. This was worse than his previous mission to this world, years ago. They had at least captured some of the Okaju then. For this mission, the losses were total.

To the Tavelmi, the victims and the Okaju hadn't been really dead, not completely. They had clung to the hope of a last few impressions of life before really mourning. Now they would have nothing. The Force made the Jedi were invincible against the Okaju, but the Tavelmi only asked for their help when forced to weigh the hope of retrieving the victims against the cost of more deaths. The Force flowed through the Jedi; they didn't hold onto it. The last traces of the dead had screamed at them when the Okaju had died. Then they had flowed away like nightmares that couldn't be remembered, gone.

Qui-Gon looked downward, and noticed, for the first time, gray specks and flakes on the sleeves and sides of Obi-Wan's robe. He hastily looked down and saw the same remains of their recent battle. It stood out even more on the darker fabric of his own robe. Had the Tavelmi seen it? Qui-Gon hadn't sensed it, but this small horror would have been difficult to separate out from the greater grief.

Qui-Gon took his robe off. Obi-Wan, having realized what was on it, took off his own as well, but before he could shake it out, Qui-Gon took it. He went to the droid, silently waiting by the door, and gave it instructions to have the robes cleaned and brought back. It expressed gratitude serving them and left the room.

"We will stay here. Until they are certain that all the Okaju are gone." He walked into the suite to a desk. " The Tavelmi will not detain us any longer than absolutely necessary."

There was a holocom, comlink and terminal on the desk, all they needed to report to the Jedi Temple on their own. With the droid to fetch anything the might need, the Tavelmi in the command center could avoid them completely for the duration of their stay. Qui-Gon sadly looked down at the devices, mentally composing his report, but there was no hurry to do so if the Tavelmi had already reported their success. There were members of the Council who would certainly understand any delay.

'This assignment, I have taken. More than once,' Master Yoda had told them sadly with unusual sympathy to both Master and Padawan, when they'd left on this mission.

"Do they really think we killed them?" Obi-Wan's voice broke the silence. Qui-Gon turned back to him. He knew that his Padawan spoke of the Okaju's victims, not the Okaju.

"No," Qui-Gon answered, his face grave. "Not intellectually. But they feel..." He folded his arms before him. "We killed their hope, Obi-Wan. Which is almost as bad." Obi-Wan nodded, turned and walked further into the suite, looking around. There were comfortable chairs, a private fresher, a sitting area, a sleeping area beyond that, an entertainment terminal. The walls were muted white with rounded chrome accents and the large holopics on the walls were illuminated with mountains and forests.

This was likely the most comfortable suite in the hostel, but there were no windows to the outside. The door was open to them, but Qui-Gon knew he would not venture out to cause their hosts more pain, a reminder of what they'd lost. He followed Obi-Wan into the main area of the suite. He saw some corners shelves, well-stocked with flavored waters, teas, juices and other drinks, plus boxes and jars of all kinds of dried and marinated foods from crackers to pressed flowers. A cool box on a lower shelf doubtlessly contained more perishable selections.

"Are you hungry, Master?" Obi-Wan now stood next to him; he looked toward the corner shelves with interest. Qui-Gon had simply been standing in one place, pointing in that direction.

Qui-Gon could not think of anything that he was less interested in than food, but he stopped himself from saying anything. Of course, Obi-Wan was hungry, he realized. After being sick and affected by the Okaju, he was possibly a little dehydrated as well. Qui-Gon nodded toward the shelves, inviting Obi-Wan to help himself.

Qui-Gon went to a wide, yellow, cushioned couch, sat back and closed his eyes. A moment later Obi-Wan laid containers and bottles on the low table before the couch and immediately returned to the shelves. Curious, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and sat up. There were a couple of bottles of water and a chilled cylinder of sapir tea. He saw boxes of dried fruits, salted barks, miniature flat-breads, cookies and a container of what looked like guba-pastes.

Obi-Wan came back with plates, utensils, cups, a couple of jars of more food and another box. Qui-Gon noticed immediately that they were all things that he liked, and some of them he knew that Obi-Wan would never touch.

Kneeling before the table, Obi-Wan laid out plates and utensils. Then he seemed to think of something else, got up and went back to the shelves. Qui-Gon looked down at the plate placed before him, his melancholy turning into something else.

iMy Padawan brought me food./i

Again, he closed his eyes. A single tear ran down his cheek. He felt his days of weariness well up inside him, weariness of every face being turned away from him as soon as he was recognized, of pushing away helpless beings out of necessity, of being held at a distance by them out of fear, of being feared. Fear led to the dark side of the Force, but it also shriveled the heart.

This simple act of kindness laid out before him had filled his heart more than he could have ever received from hours of lonely meditation.

"Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon looked up at his Padawan. Obi-Wan stood there, his eyes bright and his arms loaded with hand wipes, a jar of seeds and other condiments. Qui-Gon inclined his head and gestured to the side. Obi-Wan put the rest of his offerings on the table and sat down on the couch next to him.

Outside the little island of compassion that Obi-Wan had inadvertently created, Qui-Gon still sensed the miasma of fear and grief of the Tavelmi. He smiled and put a reassuring arm around his Padawan. Somewhere, through the Force, Qui-Gon also sensed a few glimmers of renewal, and hope.

**— FIN —**

_This story was first posted by ardavenport on - 2-April-2006_

**Disclaimer:** All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.


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